Empty Handed (Sonnet of Sorrow #1)

[Xillus_Xavier]

Empty Handed
Sonnet of Sorrow #1

My empty hand awaits in chronic form
to feel accepting fingers' tenderness.
The warmth within is waning in the storm,
and patience turns to fear I can't suppress.
The waves of opportunity have ebbed,
at least to me it seems to be that way.
The barren palm of hope is always webbed,
with loneliness its only catch each day.
The desperation of the outstretched hand
parades a bleeding heart for all to see.
And even though my mind can't understand,
a loveless life is my reality.
With well of hope now dry, I feel composed.
No tears are left to cry as hand is closed.

[ampoule]

From the beginning 'my empty hand waits' to the ending 'hand is closed', I like this very much. I really like 'loneliness its only catch'.

[mazHur]

nice but i think it ought to be 'its' in the 8th line?

[Scube]

Nicely done: natural rime, well developed thought along the hand theme brought to a nice close. I felt a genuinness come through, and recognized a little past pain stirred up when I read.

[Xillus_Xavier]

Thank you all for the comments.
And yes MazHur..."its" is what is should be and I've corrected it now.
Thanks for pointing that out for me.

[Pendragon]

A darned fine sonnet! Double X, you have the muse!

[Xillus_Xavier]

Ok...made a revision on this.
Need to know if this is an improvement over the original.

Empty Handed
Sonnet of Sorrow #1
*******

My empty hand awaits in chronic form
to feel accepting fingers' tendered press.
The warmth within me wanes in Sorrows' storm.
My patience turns to fear as I regress.
The waves of opportunity have ebbed.
The sands of sympathy are swept away.
My barren palm of hope, though always webbed -
finds loneliness its only catch each day.
The desperation of my outstreatched hand
parades a bleeding heart for all to see.
And even though my mind can't understand -
a loveless life may be my destiny.
My well of hope's run dry, but I'm composed.
No tears are left to cry - my hand is closed.

[Pendragon]

Slightly improved, with that new 12th line. Mind you, I found nothing wrong with it before, but this does flow a bit better. Just never fall into the trap of allowing the form to cause to force things. Rule the form, forcing makes for stilted poetry. You haven't done that here. Everything flows as it should, nothing feels forced.

People get trapped by meter, when they value meter so much that rather than break it, they force something in for the sake of meter. This almost invariably leads to stilted poetry. On the flip side, people like myself, who value flow over meter, sometimes have lines that are unbalanced, and that can lead to deadwood being written into an otherwise tight poem.

You seem to be doing fine. I admire your sonnet skill!

[barbara0207]

I love the revised version, it appears a bit deeper still, more thought over. There is only one thing I do not like. It's the word "Sorrow's" in the second line. The readers should be made to feel the sorrow. The rest of the sonnet shows the sorrow quite clearly - no need to say the word. And I thought the progressive form ( is waning) makes the gradual process clear.

But otherwise: great accomplishment. And as to form I'm with Pen: natural flow of metre and rhyme.